Home Sweet TARDIS
by Veggiechick
Summary: A series of One-shots in which River and the eleventh regeneration of the Doctor become accustomed to marriage, children, family, and domesticity in general. Cover art credit to saimain. deviantart. com
1. Chapter 1: Martians

The doctor sat in his TARDIS, pondering. He was rather fond of it—pondering. He was thinking of where to travel to next. He had the entirety of the universe at his fingertips, but…he felt as if something was missing.

The TARDIS hummed knowingly around him.

"No I do not miss her!" the doctor said, seemingly to the wall he was facing. The TARDIS hummed again in a way that almost sounded like a chuckle.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Sexy. I can have just as much fun without her." The Doctor paused for a moment. "But, then again, if _you_ miss her—well she is your child after all—I don't want to upset you." If Sexy had eyes, she would have rolled them. As it was, she made do with flashing her console a sarcastic green. (Once the second color spectrum had been discovered, the human race decided to use all the old color names and pair them with types of speech—such as metaphor purple or anecdote gray—to differentiate.)

"Right then! We're decided—off to fetch River Song!"

The doctor swaggered with macho confidence into Stormgate, the prison where River Song was held.

"I'm here to see River Song," he said to a rather rumpled and tired looking guard at the front door. It was interesting, walking through the front doors of places. He ought to try it more often.

"And who are you?"

"Ah, that's just the question isn't it?" the Doctor said, enjoying his private joke as the guard looked confused and annoyed.

"I'm …John Smith—River's uncle," the Doctor lied, making a mental note to go back in time and register himself as River's uncle, John Smith after he left.

The guard looked skeptical. "Her uncle?"

"Yes, well, I know there's no family resemblance, but her father was a Martian—what are you going to do?" The Doctor bestowed his winning-est most childish smile, and the guard, after many grumblings and checking of papers and files and clipboards, got out her keys and told the Doctor to "follow me, and be quick about it,"

As they walked down the hallway, the Doctor kept annoying the other prisoners, trying to check his reflection in their prison bars. They would complain, but whenever the guard, Shirley 78 as she seemed to be called, looked round, the Doctor was obediently following behind her, looking straight ahead. They reached the end of the hall, and Shirley 78 pulled out a key to unlock the door at the end of it.

"Oh, is this hers, then?" The doctor asked, brightly.

"No," Shirley replied. "She's farther on."

It turned out River's cell was quite a bit further on—down three flights of stairs, a trip in five transport pods, and a room full of anxious-looking Judoon guards farther on, to be exact. The Judoon had all pointed their weapons at the Doctor, who immediately put his hand over the sonic screwdriver in his pocket before Shirley reassured them. "It's fine, it's fine. He's her uncle. Family rights and all."

Finally, they reached River's cell—which was, surprisingly, normal looking with simple bars and a lock. River was facing away from the door, reading a book. Her wildly curly hair just brushed the back of the poufy chair that she was sitting in.

"I'll be standing right around that corner," Shirley warned, "so no tricks. 'Uncle Song.' " She smirked and walked back round the corner.

The Doctor approached his wife's cell.

"Hello dear," he said. "Been keeping busy while I was away?"

Though he didn't want to admit it, the Doctor was rather excited about seeing his wife's face for the first time since he had "died." Though when he met River, he had viewed her mostly with distrust, he now didn't find it so hard to believe that he would love this woman enough one day to reveal his name to her. Perhaps not today—but someday. Plus, she was just so—_yowzah_.

"Oh, _hello_ sweetie!" River gave her customary greeting over her shoulder before setting her book down on a table beside the chair and getting up. She scooted forward, placed a hand on the dip in her back, and used the other to sort of—_heave_ herself out of the chair.

As River stood for a moment catching her breath, the Doctor had a moment of panic, wondering what type of injury could have caused River to have this much trouble getting out of chairs. Then she turned to face him.

She smiled, walking towards him slowly as the Doctor slowly comprehended—his wife was pregnant.

The Doctor looked on in shock, his eyes glued to River's rather bulbous belly.

"Doctor?" River said, a bit uncertainly. The Doctor did not respond, his mouth slowly gaping open.

"Sweetie, it's not polite to stare," River said as she reached through the bars and closed the Doctor's mouth with a faint snap. She kept her hand on his chin, looking him straight in the face. "How old are you?" she asked.

"One thousand two hundred and twenty-seven years, but I hardly think that is the most pressing question at the moment." The Doctor dragged his eyes away from River's stomach and looked at her face. "River, you're—I mean you—are you…?"

"Yes, I am pregnant. But you're not who I was expecting." A crease had formed between the archaeologist's eyebrows as she let go of the Doctor's chin. "At least not yet. Too young—though not by much." She seemed to mutter the last part to herself. "Ah well!" she said as her expression cleared. "I expect he'll be along shortly. You'd better go before you meet him. Never want to meet yourself in time, do you? Other than creating a paradox that risks the stability of the universe, it's horribly embarrassing. I should know." River shuddered. "I mean—leg warmers? _What_ could I have been thinking?"

"River, I'm not going anywhere. You have some explaining to do."

"Explaining of what?" River donned a highly innocent expression and turned away to sit on her bed.

The Doctor fumbled for his sonic before finally pulling it out of his pocket and (on the second try) succeeded in unlocking the door. He marched over to River and crossed his arms looking down at her. He seemed somewhat angry.

"For starters, who's the father?"

"Who-?" River looked a bit confused, before getting a mischievous look in her eyes. "Well, sweetie, that would be giving you spoilers now wouldn't it?"

"Dammit, Song!" The Doctor slammed his fist against the wall. "I deserve to know, spoilers or not. I am your husband; I think that's worth something at least—though, perhaps not as much as I thought."

River raised an eyebrow at him, cooly. "The baby is yours if you must know. You can end your tantrum now."

The Doctor took a seat in the chair facing the bed with a lame "Oh." He suddenly became very interested in the various bits of dust and dirt on the floor.

There was silence for a few moments, before River piped up. "I am many things, Doctor, including an occasional murderer and thief—but I am not unfaithful.

The Doctor cleared his throat uncomfortably, noticing that all the playfulness had left River's eyes—the eyes that he was having a hard time meeting.. "Yes, well…yes. I should have known. I apologize."

There were a few more minutes of silence, in which the Doctor looked properly sorry.

"Well, then, you've apologized. No need to sulk like a scolded puppy."

The Doctor looked up forlornly.

"I forgive you, alright? You can stop with the wide, adorable eyes now."

"It's just that," the Doctor looked embarrassed and adjusted his collar. "well, you're not going to tell Amy what I did, are you?"

River laughed, and the Doctor smiled in return. He enjoyed her laugh. It was nothing like tinkling bells—it was loud, unapologetic and, quite frankly, sexy.

"No, I suppose not. You can't very well be blamed can you?" River said, already back to her normal, good-humored self. "Not with time being all wibbly for me, and all wobbly for you."

The Doctor again looked at his wife's very pregnant belly.

"So we…" He scratched at his cheek.

River laughed again. "Yes, we do."

"I see." The Doctor turned red. "Where am I? For you I mean."

"Now that really would be spoilers, sweetie," River said, not unkindly.

The Doctor leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "I never liked that term. 'spoilers.' A.k.a: I know something you don't know."

River, laughing, stood up, or tried to. The Doctor leapt up and held out both hands for her to lift herself up on. Between the two of them, they managed to get River into a fairly stable standing position. Even after, she held onto the Doctor's hands. It had been a little while since she had seen him last.

"You should go," River said, though she didn't seem very keen on the idea.

"But—will you be okay? I'm not sure a prison full of guns is the right place to give birth…"

"Oh, sweetie. I'll be fine. I'm the woman who killed the Doctor, I think I can handle this."

She halted any further protests by kissing the Doctor firmly and for a long while. His hands gradually left hers and traveled up her arms to grip her shoulders. This was not like the first time they had kissed, where he had been surprised because 1) it was the first time he had kissed anyone in 300 years (give or take a few) and 2) because he had enjoyed it much more than he had thought that he would. If he were to think about it. Which he hadn't. He also hadn't thought about how good she had looked in her green archaeologist dress, with her hair down and a gun on her hip. _Yowzah._

From around the corner, Shirley peered out to make sure that the Professor wasn't escaping again. When she saw what was going on inside the cell, her eyebrows disappeared into her hair, and she retreated back around the corner. "_Martians_," she muttered. "Never know _what_ they're gonna do."

River pulled back from the Doctor just enough to speak, ignoring his sigh of disappointment at the end of their kiss.

"It's time for you to go," she said, though not gripping his waist any less. "You need to go and have adventures and travel in your time line and make sure that I get to be like this."

The Doctor smiled. "I don't think that will be a problem."

"Cheeky boy." She lightly and affectionately slapped him on the face. "Now go, before I stop thinking about what's good for the future and start only caring about what's good for right now." She walked around him and he helped her to sit back in her chair. "And re-lock the cell on your way out," she said as she picked up her book "Or they'll give me laundry duty again. I despise laundry," She said darkly.

The Doctor walked through the cell door, re-locking it behind him as he went. "Goodbye River," he said through the bars.

"Goodbye, love," she said in return.

River Song watched her husband until he exited out of the heavily barred back doors next to her cell like they were a child's gate, setting off a multitude of alarms. Shirley 78 came around the corner, swinging her gun. She saw only River sitting calmly, reading a book.

"Don't think you're fooling me Professor," Shirley said as she re-holstered her gun, "Just because I haven't caught you at anything. Three weeks laundry duty. No excuses."

Shirley swaggered back around the corner and up the stairs as River sat cursing her husband.


	2. Chapter 2: Mother Knows Best

The Doctor was brooding again. Normally this behavior only mildly annoyed River and she would tease him (in multiple fashions) until he got angry enough or found her funny enough to snap out of it. This was different, however. Different because the Doctor was not pouting over the fact that she had thrown all (or what she had thought was all) of his bowties into the Seine, or that she had shot the "coolest" new hat he had discovered. This was a legitimate reason, a reason that saddened her too.

The Doctor sat in a chair at the TARDIS's console, chin in his cupped hands, staring into the long tube that went up for many stories that was now glowing apostrophe pink. He sighed, as he had been doing for the past fifteen minutes. River got up from the chair she had been sitting in on the other side of the console.

"Alright, Doctor, that's enough self-pity for one day I should think. Time to talk out our feelings and such—that's what they say that good married couples do. And by 'they' I mean mum and Dr. Phil."

"I'm not self-pitying," the Doctor responded a bit petulantly.

"Alright," River conceded, knowing that sometimes the best way to deal with her childish husband was to humor him. She took a seat in front of him on the control panel. "Let me rephrase: What has you brooding and pondering the furthermost mysteries of the universe in a decidedly non-pitying and non-pouting way?"

"It's—nothing. I'm fine." The Doctor tried to brush off Rivers concern.

"Doctor," River raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, fine. It's just that…well, we've been trying for a while now."

"Trying what?" River asked, though she was ninety-nine percent sure that she knew the answer to her own question. She felt her stomach sink to a location approximately around her ankles.

"You know…we decided to stop being careful. And…" The Doctor looked a bit embarrassed. "And try to have some little doctors—or professors!" he added on when he saw River's expression, mistaking the reason for the look of annoyance.

"Well, it's not like I can control that you know."

"Yes, River, I know. I wasn't blaming—"

"She did all sorts of things to me—Kovarian did. Some things I don't even remember, or want to. I could be barren for all we know!"

The Doctor quickly stood up and took his wife in his arms.

"Oh, River, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply—look, none of this is your fault. No, I just, I was being stupid." He spoke into her hair and rubbed her back soothingly.

River hid her face in his shoulder to hide her tearless face and her frightened expression.

"You really want children don't you?" she asked after a few minutes.

"River, it's not about what I—"

"Just answer the question." A pause.

"I think that it would be wonderful to be able to raise a child of me and the woman I love together with her. I think it would be the greatest, most exciting adventure of them all, I think it would be fantastic." The Doctor pulled away so that he could look his wife in the face, though she turned her eyes away. "But understand this, River. I can give up all of that—would give up much more—to have the immense honor of calling you my wife and being your husband."

"Oh, sweetie…" River started to sniff and rapidly blink as she had tears that she did not want to fall.

"Come here." The Doctor opened up his arms once again, and let River cry.

Later that night, River stood in one of the many bathrooms in the TARDIS. She had both of her hands flat on the sink with her shoulders hunched, staring straight into the mirror, wearing only a camisole and some sleeping shorts. Every so often, she would glance to a nail polish sized bottle on the sink just past her fingertips and clearly marked BIRTH CONTROL.

River closed her eyes and seemed to sink even more into herself. She whispered, "Oh, mother," not meaning the fiery-headed, fiercely-loving mother in Lead worth, but the rather blue one that she was with now. "I was doing the right thing, wasn't I?" There was no answer. "Am I doing the right thing now?" A certain comforting hum came from the TARDIS, as if Sexy was trying to comfort and assure her child that all would be well as long as she made the right decision.

River opened her eyes with a newfound determination. She resolutely picked up the bottle, unscrewed it, poured the contents down the sink, and tossed the container in the toilet. She then rinsed what was left of the green and black play-doh like substance down the sink, and flushed the toilet. She walked over to the door and placed her hand on the knob.

"Thank you, mother," she said right before she opened the door and walked out into the hallway.

River turned left and walked down the hall until she encountered the room where she and the Doctor slept. She walked him to find him listening to the iPod that Amy had given him last Christmas and on which he had refused so far to place any songs except those of Benny Goodman. He had failed to spot her and was bobbing his head in an endearingly ridiculous fashion. River smiled fondly in the doorway at her adorable, childish, exasperating, ridiculous Doctor before stepping into the light.

The Doctor saw her and smiled. "River!" he said, speaking too loud because of the loud music playing in his ears. River walked over and pulled the ear buds out. Before he could protest, she kissed him firmly on the mouth, maneuvering with a grace only River Song could posses, into his lap in the process.

"River…" the Doctor pulled away and looked at her uncertainly.

"What?"

"I don't want—I mean I do want (of course I want) but, we shouldn't…If you think that you can't have children, I don't want to keep trying. I don't want you to hurt anymore."

"I think that I'll be okay, Doctor," River said, leaning in for another kiss.

"River, no. I won't. Not unless you can promise me that you're not doing this to…to try and have a baby. I won't do that to you—to us—anymore."

River Song looked into her Doctor's face—the face that was scratchy with stubble and shadowed from the sleepless nights spent on brooding over this problem. She wasn't one who was overly found of self-loathing, but, oh, how she hated herself now.

"One more time, sweetie. Let's try just once more."

Though, the Doctor tried to protest, he didn't win the argument. As was often the case, River Song got what she wanted.


	3. Chapter 3: Pickles

"Love, do we have any pickles?" River Song asked of her husband, rather out of the blue.

"Pickles?" called the Doctor from below. He was sitting in his sort of harness and (for better or for worse) tinkering with the TARDIS's mechanisms. "Why would you want those? Better to have fish fingers and custard—more nutritional and loads better tasting.

"My cravings haven't quite driven me to _those_ depths yet." River sniffed. "I still have some sort of taste." She walked to the stairs leading down under the TARDIS's console and sat on the steps. Her stomach stood out only slightly.

"Ah, so this is what that is." The Doctor grinned. "The old pregnancy cravings."

"You wouldn't be so delighted if you had them." River said almost petulantly. "I don't even _like_ pickles, but all of a sudden I've _got_ to have some."

"Never fear. I'll find you the best pickles in the entire universe. I'll bring back a whole bushel."

The Doctor, excited for this new adventure, grabbed his jacket from the floor and quickly flung it on.

"Dear, pickles don't grow in bushels. They don't grow at all. They're made."

"Not on the Hidden World of Pklasico. Pickles grow on bushels there—bushels, trees, vines, on the roots of other plants—anywhere they like, really."

River crossed her arms knowingly.

"And I suppose pickles are the absolute only reason you're going?"

"Ah, well, there might be a rumor floating about the cosmos that this particular planet may or may not have been hidden for the past eleven billion years with a civilization completely untainted by modern technology such as—" the Doctor scrunched his nose "—vortex manipulators."

He looked back down at River who had her eyebrows raised.

"But that is not why I am going! I search solely for pickles for my wife. If I happen to find a delightfully mysterious and almost forgotten planet in the process, well, then so be it." The Doctor looked at River, waiting for her response.

"Oh, all right," she said, taking the Doctor's hand to help her stand. "You've been cooped up here almost a week straight. I can't very well keep you from your adventures now can I?"

"Would you like to come?" The Doctor asked. "I've never known River Song to give up the opportunity to shoot something, even if it _is_ just a pickle."

"No, I think I'll save myself for the _really_ interesting adventures, now that I'm pregnant. Pickles don't exactly make the blood pound in one's ears, now does it?"

The Doctor had turned and was now excitedly spinning some controls and waggling others, setting out to find the Hidden World of Pklasico. River smiled to herself and went up the stairs to prepare for bed.

_This is a page break. Say hello. Okay, now back to reading._

River was woken up by a heavy pounding on the door and an indistinguishable yelling. She sat up immediately, being a light sleeper, and, not having time to change out of her shorts and a shirt of the Doctor's, hurried downstairs. In the hallway she grabbed her familiar gun that lay on a small table.

River made her way to the TARDIS's door, and stood beside it. The pounding came again—_BOOM BOOM BOOM._

"Who's there?" River called out with false bravado.

There was a pause.

"River, it's me. And unless you open this door quite soon, there are going to be some very happy Pklasicans, and a very unhappy timelord." The Doctor said with a bit of sarcasm.

There was no mistaking her Doctor's voice. River pulled open the door and saw only a very large bushel of pickles with two tweeded legs underneath. The Doctor staggered in and kicked the door closed behind him. He struggled over to a chair and set down the pickles.

"There!" he said triumphantly. "One bushel of the finest pickles that can be found."

"Doctor, what did you do?" River asked. "And why couldn't you open the door yourself?"

"Ah, yes, well apparently the Pklasicans do not like it when you take their pickles. Also, they're cannibals. Who would have known?" The Doctor gave a smile. "Facinating culture! If only they hadn't insisted on eating me…I could have learned so much."

"And the door?"

"Oh! Well, my hands were too full of pickles to get to the key, weren't they?" The Doctor said as if this were the obvious conclusion.

"Doctor…" River said, sounding exasperated an amused as usual. "You know you're going to have to stop risking your life so much, now we're having a baby."

"Yeee-eeeesss," the Doctor drew out the word with an uncertain reluctance in his voice. "But certainly not all life-endangering ventures are to be foregone? I mean, what's the point of having a time-and-space machine if one can't go on glorious adventures and risk one's life like it was so many pickles?"

"At least try to limit the number until I can join you again. Or until you find someone to travel with who can go and watch out for you. You take far too many risks when you're alone."

"You act as if I'm a curious child who can't help but get into danger.! The Doctor looked indignant.

River raised her eyebrows.

"I'll have you know," he said, "That I am at least a full eight thousand years older than you and I do not need protecting. I am perfectly level-headed, responsible, adult."

River stuck out her lower lip and looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes.

"Oh, alright," The Doctor said after a few moments, unable to hold out.

"Alright what?" his wife prompted.

The Doctor sighed and rolled his eyes. "Alright, I will limit the number of times that I am in dangerous situations until our baby is born."

"Thank you, sweetie," River smiled and uncrossed her arms, turning to climb back up the staircase.

"How could I say no to that face?" The Doctor climbed behind her, and placed his hand over hers on the railing.

"Only because you know there's a gun somewhere nearby when you see it." River turned again to put her hands on his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He shrugged.

"Maybe—but also because I care about you and I want you to be happy. You're my wife and I want to spend the rest of our lives with you, me, and our baby." He smiled, still amazed by the glorious fact that he was, once again, a father.

River kissed him, pickles forgotten, as the TARDIS whisked them off to wherever they next needed to go.

_**A/N: Good? Mediocre? Needs to be thrown into the time vortex? Tell me in a review. Thanks to all my readers, you all are just the loveliest people.**_


	4. Chapter 4: Drenched

_**Chapter III:**_

"River!"

River Song was unceremoniously jerked from a peaceful sleep by her husband's voice. The very same husband who was a "morning person"—an "any-time-of-day" person, in fact. He never slept for more than five hours at a time. Part of it was the fact that Time Lords had a definite lesser need for sleep, and part of it was the fact that the Doctor couldn't stand to be lying down, doing absolutely nothing for an extended period of time. He became bored even in his sleep.

River Song, on the other hand, was the exact polar opposite of a morning person and, being pregnant, she found herself even fonder of sleep than usual. So, when the Doctor called her from outside of the TARDIS, she thought, rather disgruntled,  
_He'd better be in some serious trouble, or he's about to be._

She threw on a robe and made her way down the stairs, a hand on the small of her back, the other gripping the railing. Eventually she joined the Doctor outside who was peering up at the top of the TARDIS. She stepped out onto the soft, light blue and moss-like ground and the fresh wind held a faint smell of honey.

"RIV—Oh, there you are," the Doctor said pleasantly, not noticing the rather unpleasant look on his wife's face as she stood arms crossed in the door way. "Come look at this. The TARDIS's light has gone out. Hasn't done that since I stole her away." He ran his hand through his hair, agitatedly. "Had to land here to fix it. Don't exactly know where _here_ is—probably safe. I mean, since when is cotton candy dangerous?"

"This entire planet is made of cotton candy?"

"Not a planet—more of a space station. We're orbiting a larger planet. And not the entire thing—just the ground. Oh, just _wait_ until humans discover all the properties of cotton candy. Amazing for growing the right sorts of plants in. And all you do is _eat_ the stuff." The Doctor chuckled, once again amused by his adorably clueless humans.

"So—the light. You don't know how to fix it?"

"Now—no—I didn't say that. I was simply looking for your opinion—your input—suggestions if you will. I know how to 'fix it.'" The Doctor turned a bit red and began scratching his head.

River Song crossed her arms, raised an eyebrow, and waited, trying and failing to keep an amused smile off of her face. The good-smelling wind and calming atmosphere of this planet was gradually improving her mood.

"Just tell me how—how _you_ would fix it," the Doctor said, half-heartedly clinging to the idea that he might actually know how to replace Sexy's light bulb.

River sighed good-naturedly and walked over to him. She peered up at the top of the blue police box with a hand over her eyes, and then started to climb the ladder that the Doctor had already set up.

The Doctor grabbed ahold of her wrist, halting her progress.

"Wait, wait—what are you doing? You can't go up there."

River, with one foot on the bottom rung of the ladder, reacted as she did whenever someone told her there was something she couldn't do—she rebelled.

"And why not? I'm going to show you how to fix the light."

"River, you are eight months pregnant. I am not about to let you climb on top of the TARDIS."

River wanted to retaliate with an "oh you won't _let_ me, will you?" the restriction on her behavior bringing back the irritation she had had earlier. However in looking at her wrist—about to tell the Doctor to kindly remove his hand before she blasted it off and that she could do whatever she damn well pleased, she was River Song—she saw her large stomach, protruding in front of her.

Sighing, she took her foot off of the ladder, and the Doctor let go of her wrist. She succinctly told the Doctor how to fix the light, and then hurried back inside, slamming the TARDIS door behind her and leaving her very confused husband outside.

_Oh, look, a page break_

The Doctor, after fixing what was now a fully-functioning light bulb, was searching for River. The problem with having a wife who had such a large and mischievous mother was that it was very easy for her to hide within the TARDIS if said wife did not want to be found.

Just when he had almost given up, and was about to fly off to Amy's and Rory's, hoping they could convince River to come out, he burst into the library and tottered at the edge of the swimming pool. He narrowly avoided falling in. The swimming pool stretched from the wall on the Doctor's left to the one on his right. Across the pool, he saw River with her sitting in a rather poofy chair with her feet drawn up and hugging a very large and equally poofy pillow. Staring with an introverted air into space, she had not yet noticed him. She looked very gloomy.

The Doctor, seeing no nearer way to his wife, took off his coat jacket, rolled up the sleeves, and jumped in the pool. River looked up, startled at the splash, and was surprised to see her husband swimming towards her fully clothed. He reached her side and propped himself up on his elbows on the side of the pool.

"Now then, River," he said with his normal cheerful air, "let's have a chat."

"There's nothing to chat about," River said, having somewhat recovered her cool air.

"River, I might be more clueless than a twenty-first century human eating cotton candy at times, but I know that you're upset. Can't you just tell me?"

He saw the stubborn look that was so familiar coming into her eyes. River Song was loath to reveal any weakness. He decided it was time to pull out the "big guns" so to speak.

The Doctor took full advantage of the fact that River thought he looked like a twelve year old when there was something he wanted. He was able to because, whatever her insults, she thought he looked like an _irresistibly adorable_ twelve year old. He widened his eyes and looked at her imploringly.

"Please?"

River let out a huffy breath, looked away into the stacks and stacks of books, and then back at the Doctor. She bit her lip, struggling against giving in to what he wanted. But eventually…

"Alright, fine! Come up here and I'll tell you."

The Doctor grinned and lifted himself out of the pool and stood in front of her dripping wet.

"Oh, I absolutely hate you," River said, very annoyed that she had given in.

"No you don't." The Doctor continued to grin and sat down in front of River's chair. "Now, tell me what is making you so upset. Do I need to get Amy to yell at something for you?"

"No," River let out a reluctant chuckle. "No, it's nothing like that. It's just, well," she seemed to be having a hard time forming what she wanted to say before bursting out all at once "You don't think I'm boring do you?"

The Doctor almost laughed aloud at the thought of a boring River Song, before noticing her truly anxious expression. He then wisely bit his tongue.

"I don't think your boring. Why do you ask?"

"All I do now is eat and sleep. I can't go on adventures, I can barely even stand up on my own." There was a slight bitterness in her tone. "I love this baby, but I feel like it's turning me into a boring housewife—TARDISwife. Whatever."

"River…" The Doctor stood up and put his arms around his wife. She didn't protest though he was sopping. He kissed the top of her head, knowing that this issue must have been truly bothering her for it to affect her like this.

"River, you are not boring. You are sexy, you are intelligent, and you are _very_ good at shooting things. That doesn't seem particularly boring to me. Seems more…_yowzah_."

"Alright, you," River said rolling her eyes but not protesting when the Doctor leaned down to kiss her.

After several minutes, he rested his forehead against hers.

"Ms. Song, are you thirsty?"

"What?"

"It's just, you seem absolutely parched."

River had her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion until she realized what the Doctor was getting at. "Doctor, don't you dare."

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're on about River. I simply want to provide a drink for my wife." The Doctor had a highly innocent expression as he casually picked up his wife and walked over to the pool. Without giving River further time to protest, he jumped in.

"Feeling better?" he asked with his usual childish grin.

River, swimming to the shallow end of the pool and cursing him every way she knew was, nevertheless, smiling. She sat on the steps and the Doctor followed her there.

"Yes, against my will—but yes," she said with a smile. "Now come here, I'm not done with you yet."

And the Doctor leaned in to kiss his very beautiful, very drenched, very _yowzah_ wife once more.

_**A/N: All I can say is sorry, guys. Instead of a finals week, I had more of a finals month. School was just like a gargantuan Abzorbaloff, absorbing all my time. But now it is Holiday break and I have returned from the caffeine- and studying-induced zombie-like state that I was previously in. There's an update! And here are some cookies! Forgive me please?**_

_** Also, I've decided to make this story have a very wibbly-wobbly timeline. So, though River's almost due here, we could still jump back in time and check her out when she first found out she was pregnant. What? Was that a not-so-subtle hint about the contents of a future chapter? Shame on me, revealing things like that. Tsk, tsk.**_

_** I'll see you guys next week. Thank you so much for reading and remember, reviewing lets me know you actually enjoyed reading! Hasta luego.**_


	5. Chapter 5: Eating for Two

_**Takes place a few days after the Doctor finds out he's a father and several months before the first chapter's River.**_

The Doctor set the controls on his TARDIS in a decisive manner, choosing to turn off the brakes so that the screech wouldn't make any unwanted noise. His flighty humor had once again taken a turn for the worse, and he couldn't get the fact out of his head that his current wife hadn't informed him of her impregnated state. He intended on getting some explanations.

He—due to pure luck—landed the TARDIS neatly and stormed out of his brightly lit box into the fairly grey and dark jail cell of his wife. Sexy's glow lent a faint illumination to the room. Trying to be quiet, utterly failing, and knocking over a large, rather cushiony chair, he effectively woke River, who bolted upright in bed with a gun pointed at his face.

The Doctor raised his hands quickly.

"Don't shoot—only me. Nothing and no one that needs to be shot here," he said, a bit annoyed that his stealth had not, in fact, worked. Whether it had existed at all was up for debate.

River hesitated a few moments, glancing into the darker corners of the cell, and then lowered her gun.

"Right, sorry sweetie. You can never be too careful. Some of the worst people end up in jails—myself excluded of course." She ended her sentence with a yawn.

"Right," the Doctor said, lowering his hands and righting the fallen chair.

"Was there something you needed?" she asked, stifling another yawn. "Any planets dying? Time throwing a tantrum? Oh, _don't_ tell me Rory's died again!"

"No, no, everything's fine. I just—well, I wanted to talk to you." The Doctor mussed his hair.

River stood from the bed and crossed the floor to stand in front of her husband. Very close in front of him.

"Oh," she said, placing her hands on his chest. "Have I done something bad?"

"Sort of," the Doctor answered shortly. He never failed to be amazed at how his wife could flirt in any situation. Diners in the middle of nowhere, the center of a total time collapse, and this dingy jail cell were just some of the places she had chosen.

"Well, sweetie," River purred. "The handcuffs are just there under the cushion if I need punishing." She moved her hands down his chest but the Doctor grabbed them and held them in both of his, in front of her, refusing to let himself be distracted. He looked down into her eyes.

"River, I need to have a talk with you. A _serious_ talk."

River's face changed from playful to a bit worried. The space between her eyebrows developed a wrinkle like it always did when she was concerned.

"About what sweetie?"

"River…" the Doctor sighed and dipped his head. What he was about to say would sound petty and selfish, but he really wanted to know why River hadn't told him she was pregnant. He wanted to be a part of their child's life, and hoped that she didn't think she was going to have to—or that it would be better to—raise the baby all on her own. He didn't think he could stand losing a second family

"Doctor…" River extracted one of her hands and pushed his hair off of his forehead. He looked up at her, and she saw the hurt there that she had failed to notice before. "Sweetie. Tell me. Whatever it is, I'm sure we can fix it."

The Doctor took a deep breath and looked at the ground once again.

"River…why didn't you tell me that you were pregnant?" he mumbled.

"Why didn't I—what?" River had amused confusion in her voice.

The Doctor looked at her and saw that she was either a tremendous actor (which she was) or she really had no idea what he was talking about.

"I wanted to know why you didn't tell me you were—you know—eating for two." His face reddened.

The look of genuine bewilderment on River's face left no doubt in the Doctor's mind. Not even his wife was that good an actor—she had absolutely no idea what was going on.

"Doctor, you think that I'm pregnant?"

"No, I _know_ that you're pregnant. I don't understand," he said, knitting his eyebrows together and halfway talking to himself. "This isn't too early in your timeline—I checked."

"Doctor!" River was getting impatient.

"I don't see how—unless—OH!" The Doctor dropped his wife's hand and stepped away. "Terribly sorry—I'll just—um,"

"Doctor," River interrupted. "Explain. Now."

"I really don't know if—"

"You're not going to come here in the middle of the night, wake me up, tell me that you think I'm pregnant, and then fly off. You are going to sit down and tell me what the hell is going on." She crossed her arms. "Are we clear?"

"Well…yes, alright. I suppose you could say the damage has already been done." River grew more annoyed at the cryptic sentence and sighed while the Doctor chose to sit in the large chair, facing her.

"Alright—so—explaining," the Doctor gathered his thoughts. "You _are_ pregnant. Obviously you didn't know that before, but you are. The problem is, I probably shouldn't have come in here and _told_ you that you were—bit too close to crossing timelines…but that's unavoidable at this point. No harm done! Most likely!" The Doctor grinned.

River sighed and sat on her bunk.

"Oh," she cradled her chin in her hands.

"Oh?" the Doctor leaned forward. "That's all you've got to say? You've got a little time-lord—well—mostly time-lord—baby growing in there and you'd like to express the entirety of your emotions in two letters?"

"Yes," River raised an eyebrow, challenging him to challenge her. "Oh."

The Doctor pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. It didn't actually do anything to relieve any stress for him, but he had picked up the habit hanging around with humans for so many years.

"River, when we started trying again, you said that you were alright with having children. You're exact words were 'completely and totally fine' with it."

"That's just it, Doctor. I'm all right with having children. I'm completely and totally fine with it. I might even be delighted about it if we were in better circumstances. The problem is that rest of the universe might not be as 'alright' with our baby as I am." She sighed. "I was willing to try again because I could see how upset you were. How much you wanted kids—how much you love them. But now that I know we've made one, it feels like the stupidest thing we've ever done." She looked her husband in the face. "How can I have children knowing that it is a not even a likelihood but a _certainty_ that _someone_ will try to kill them or harm them or take them from me or—or—"

The Doctor got up sat beside her and pulled her to him wrapping his arms tightly and completely around her. His eyes had taken on that centuries-old pain, the pain that was never far away, that those he loved were constantly in danger of being lost. He kissed the top of her head fervently—once, twice, again and again—and could not find anything to say.

She turned into his chest and cried—the brave, gun-slinging River Song gone and the vulnerable Melody Pond sitting here on the bed. They sat like that for many minutes

* * *

"River," the Doctor's voice cracked when he eventually spoke and he cleared his throat. "River, I can't tell you that our child will be safe or unharmed or—or even that he or she will live for as long as they are meant to. But I can tell you one thing" the Doctor's voice turned hard and one would have been reminded why on some planets his name meant 'fierce warrior'. "I can tell you two things, in fact. That they will be prepared. And that anyone who wants to harm them, will have to kill me first."

River looked up at her Doctor—the warrior—and while those words were not enough—were not nearly enough, and never would be—they gave her the strength to take is hand and follow him into the TARDIS.

The large, blue, box's doors shut behind them, and could soon be seen slowly winking away, leaving a dark, dingy jail cell, a chair, and a bed.

_**A/N: Okay, a bit more somber than usual, but hopefully still good. Sorry for being horrendous at updating, I really think something in my genes prevents me from being productive on a regular basis.**_

_**Any constructive criticism? Corrections? Compliments? Questions? Rants? Likes? Dislikes? Bowties? Leave them all in that lovely box down below (it's not blue but it'll have to do).**_


End file.
